


The Black Heart

by CantatriceX (Cantatrice18)



Category: Secret of Moonacre (2008)
Genre: Backstory, Comfort, F/M, Rituals, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/CantatriceX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benjamin and Loveday have married, but there is still one secret that could come between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Heart

He carried her across the threshold, as tradition demanded. Her long blonde hair was coming loose from her elegant bun, trying to regain the freedom it had had for so many years in the forest. He wound a tendril around one of his fingers, feeling the silky smoothness, and looked down into her grey-blue eyes. The sight of them woke something within him, and he strode over to the bed before gently depositing her on the coverlet. She made no protest, no sound at all, for which he was grateful. Though he loved her above all other things, he still found that women in general liked to talk rather more than he cared to listen. Now, though, no words were needed. He saw the sparkle of excitement in her eyes, heard the quick intake of breath as he leaned forward and untied the simple red ribbon she wore about her neck. His hands drifted to her shoulders, pushing the fabric of her dress aside until his fingers could feel the warmth of her bare skin. He kissed her fiercely, pulling the fabric down further, not caring if he ripped it. He felt the bodice slip over the peaks of her breasts, leaving her torso bare, and began to kiss down her neck. She arched her back towards him, letting out a soft moan as his hands moved to caress her breasts. Suddenly he stopped, brow furrowed, and looked down. There, on her left breast, lay a black tattoo. It was in the shape of a heart, about an inch wide, and until now had been hidden by her clothes. “Loveday, what is this?”

She opened her eyes and glanced downwards to see what he was looking at, and her skin went dead white. “Oh…I’d forgotten.”

“What is this?” Benjamin repeated, a little louder this time. She would not meet his eyes, and he noticed her fingers entwining in her fallen dress as though longing to pull it up to cover herself. He placed a hand beneath her chin and forced her head upwards so that she had to meet his eyes. “Answer me.”

“It’s…a mark.”

Benjamin rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can see very well it’s a mark. Why is it there?”

“It’s the mark of my family,” she muttered, her voice so soft he could barely hear her. “It’s part of the De Noir crest.”

He gritted his teeth in frustration. “I am aware of the symbol’s meaning. Why is it on your body, Loveday? And why there?” 

He pointed a finger at her breast and she moved a hand to cover herself, but he quickly caught it and pushed it aside so that the mark remained exposed. She shuddered, but he would not let go. “We all have one,” she whispered, “all the De Noir females. We are marked the moment we become women. But it isn’t permanent.”

He stared at the black heart, intrigued despite himself, and ran a finger across it. “It fades, then?”

She was trembling. “Benjamin, I don’t want –“, but one look at his face was enough to tell her he would not let her go until she answered. Her eyes dropped, a blush mantling her cheeks. “When a man… when we –“ she took a deep breath, “When we lose our virginity the mark fades. It’s a way for our husband and our families to know we’re still pure on our wedding days. If my father had not disowned me,” her hands had clenched into fists, “if he had sanctioned our marriage he would have checked in front of witnesses to make sure the mark was still there.”

Benjamin pulled his hand away from the mark as though he had been burned, staring down at it in horror. The image of her father, Coeur de Noir, exposing his daughter’s body in front of other people made him burn with anger. A soft noise made him look up at her face once more.

Her eyes had filled with tears, and her expression had changed to one of desperation. Her fingers clutched at his jacket as though frantic to keep him close to her. “Please, Benjamin, please. Not again, I beg of you.”

For a moment he was completely bewildered, and then he realized what she meant. His disgust at what the De Noirs did to their women must have shown on his face, and she had mistaken it for loathing. The last time he’d looked at her with such revulsion it had led to heartbreak for both of them. The mere thought of going through such suffering again made her tremble with dread. As he gathered her into his arms she let out a choked sob, laying her head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back comfortingly, feeling her hot tears brush against his skin. “Shh. It’s alright. I won’t leave you. This,” he gestured towards the mark, “this was done through no fault of your own. How could I possibly blame you for it?”

He knew his words were hypocritical; he had, after all, blamed her for her heritage before. The “crime” of being from the De Noir family was what had separated them in the first place. He was not about to make that mistake again. He kissed her tenderly, then leaned back and smiled, letting his love for her show through his normally stoic mask. “Nothing that family of yours does can change the way I feel about you.”

Her eyes were bright with hope even as they glistened with unshed tears, and she kissed him with more passion than ever before. “Love me, Benjamin, that’s all I could ever want.”

As he held the woman who had haunted his dreams for so long, Benjamin felt a contentment that he would never have thought possible. “Always, dearest one. Always.”


End file.
